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by onbeinganangel



Series: kinkuary 2021 [18]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29605191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onbeinganangel/pseuds/onbeinganangel
Summary: Bill Weasley, who insists on approaching Draco every time, no matter where, on fetching him drinks, on flirting relentlessly, on touching him softly with rough, big hands that leave Draco’s skin prickling. Bill Weasley, with that fang earring dangling enticingly off his ear, moving ever so slightly as he speaks, with his hair pulled up into a messy ponytail Draco desperately wants to pull on.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Bill Weasley
Series: kinkuary 2021 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137662
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





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**Author's Note:**

> My mission to get every Weasley thoroughly shagged by the end of the month is closer to being accomplished every day!
> 
> With love and thanks to Starry who got me obsessed with ~~everyone's~~ Draco's little crush on Bill with her brilliant advent fic, [A Room Up There (And You In It)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692572/chapters/67771609) which I highly rec.
> 
> [Uphorie](https://uphorie.tumblr.com), another day, another thank you for fixing my rogue commas.

Theo seemed to be of the opinion that now that he was dating a Gryffindor, all of the Slytherins needed to be subjected to endless pub nights, garden parties, chaotic Sunday Quidditch matches and boozy dinners.

Draco doesn’t really hate anyone anymore — unless he’s counting himself — but it’s fair to say that he hadn’t really considered his life would include dinner at Granger and Weasley’s ( _Hermione and Ron_ , he reminds himself) only five years after the War.

There are a rather large number of things that he finds rather unbelievable at this recent turn of events. If really necessary, they can be boiled down to three:

Number one: it only takes a couple of pints for Potter and him to behave around each other and actually have a conversation like adults. 

Number two: Theo is right, Neville Longbottom is kind of charming. 

Number three, and most distressing of all: most of the Weasleys are _alarmingly attractive._

Well, probably not most. Ginevra is not his type. Draco will reluctantly admit that Ronald is good-looking, but he wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole. George is a little too loud. Percy is a little too quiet. Charlie is hot as fuck but rumour has it his only interest in life are his dragons. Which leads us to Draco’s main problem: _Bill Weasley._

Bill Weasley, who insists on approaching Draco every time, no matter where, on fetching him drinks, on flirting relentlessly, on touching him softly with rough, big hands that leave Draco’s skin prickling. Bill Weasley, with that fang earring dangling enticingly off his ear, moving ever so slightly as he speaks, with his hair pulled up into a messy ponytail Draco desperately wants to pull on.

Like tonight, as Draco accepts a glass of Pimms and tries not to frown at the fact it’s served in a wine glass, and listens to Bill tell him about his visit to somewhere in South America where he was breaking curses on artifacts that had been locked in a vault for thousands of years. He tries to listen, he does, because _it is interesting_ and Bill’s voice is low and rough and inviting but all he really registers is “two weeks in South America" and he loses himself in the fact that that explains all the prominent freckles and the light tan.

Draco is asking about a cursed ring — he’s got experience with cursed jewellery whether he’d like to admit that or not — when Pansy comes striding through the garden like an arrow and says in a sickly-sweet voice, “I am so sorry, I’m going to have to steal Draco,” and drags him into the house without another word.

“What’s your problem?” He asks.

“That is my bloody question, Draco. What are you waiting for?” She asks, and pulls him into the bathroom with her. 

She slams the toilet seat down and pushes Draco until he’s sat on it.

“What is your problem?” She repeats, pulling a tiny lipstick out of her bra and reapplying it in front of the mirror.

“What are you on about, Pansy?” He asks, irritated.

“Bill Weasley!? Looking at you like you’re edible for months and you not paying him any mind! That’s what I’m on about!” She says, waving her hands in the air to emphasise her point.

“He’s not! He’s just really friendly!” He argues, defensively.

She scoffs. “Yeah, sure. Except he’s not that friendly with anyone else.”

Draco doesn’t know what to say to that so he looks around at Grang— _Hermione and Ron_ ’s surprisingly well decorated little downstairs loo.

“Real talk, Drakey,” she points a long green-lacquered nail at him.

“Ew,” he says, at the nickname.

“If he wanted to — really wanted to — would you say no?”

He laughs, then.

“Are you stupid? Have you seen him, Pans? He just has to say the word and I’ll drop to my knees, right there in the garden, if that’s what he wants. Issue being, it’s not. He’s just being friendly,” he insists.

“Sure,” Pansy says with a devious smile he doesn’t like the look of. “Now, look at me,” she says. She runs a hand through his hair, flicks a non-existent crumb of his cheek, smooths down his v-neck t-shirt.

“Stunning.” 

She opens the door while Draco is still precariously perched on the toilet, confused by whatever the fuck is going on. “You’re welcome,” she says, and walks out in her confident little stride.

Draco stands up but walks into Bill Weasley as he reaches the door.

“Shit—“

“Sorry.”

Draco laughs awkwardly, but Bill isn’t laughing.

Bill is looking at him like he’s edible.

Neither of them speak as Bill pushes him back into the little bathroom, locks the door behind him and presses him against the sink.

“Malfoy, you’re a slippery bastard, you know? Had I realised you needed me to explicitly state my intentions, we would have been doing this a long time ago,” he says and tilts Draco’s chin up until their eyes meet.

Before Draco can get a word in, Bill descends on him and whatever it was Draco wanted to say escapes his brain to make way for the fact that Bill Weasley is kissing him. His back is pressed against the sink uncomfortably but Draco would rather die than break that kiss.

Draco doesn’t complain when Bill turns him around and presses him against the door instead or when those rough big hands he’d been thinking about for weeks find their way up his t-shirt. Definitely not when Bill’s t-shirt comes off too and Draco has to bite back a moan at how needlessly fit Bill is. 

He wonders if Bill was on the other side of the door the whole time, if he’d heard Draco saying how much he wants to suck him off. But Bill drops to his knees and fumbles with Draco’s belt instead. 

“Can you be quiet?”

Draco reaches for his wand in his back pocket as an answer.

“No,” Bill says, and grabs the wand before Draco can cast a Muffliato. “I asked, _can you be quiet?”_

“Merlin,” Draco says, head hitting the door heavily. “Yes. Yes,” he says, even though he’s not sure he can because Bill’s hand is stroking him to full hardness and he’s already biting his lip hard to stop himself from making a sound.

“I want you to come in my mouth before anyone needs to use this bathroom. And there’s plenty of half drunk people in that garden already, so… be quick.”

Being quick is not a problem. Lasting more than a minute at all is the problem, really. The image alone is enough to make Draco lose his mind. Bill Weasley, fit as fuck, topless, on his knees, with Draco’s cock in his mouth. If that wasn’t enough, Bill is good. Bill is _really fucking good._

Draco reaches for his sun-kissed shoulders, runs a hand through Bill’s hair and grips hard at the base of Bill’s ponytail. No matter how much he wants to last, there’s not much he can do when Bill takes him all the way into the back of his throat and uses his tongue to lap at the underside. 

Bill swallows it all, greedy and hungry and Draco’s knees buckle under his weight. 

“Fuck,” he says. And without considering the consequences, he says, pulling Bill up on his feet, “I want you to fuck me.”

Bill is opening his fly as he speaks, “No time.”

Draco frowns, disappointed, and Bill kisses him again. Draco can taste himself in his mouth and the thought sends him wild. 

“Fuck my thighs?”

Bill doesn’t need to be told twice. “Fuck. Yes.”

Draco is turned around and pressed against the sink, and comes face to face with himself in the mirror — looking thoroughly shagged. Messy hair, flushed face and plump, wet lips.

Bill wastes no time pulling Draco’s trousers further down, conjuring lube and spreading it generously in between Draco’s legs. His body sings with desire as Bill slides his prick against his skin.

Draco squeezes his legs gently and a groan rips through Bill. 

“You said _I_ had to be quiet,” he says, and Bill bites the tendon where his neck and shoulder meet, making Draco yelp.

“Were you?” Bill asks, and makes an incoherent noise in the back of his throat as Draco rocks his hips back and forth again and presses his thighs together harder.

It’s so warm, so slick and the feel of Bill rubbing against him makes Draco feel feverish.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” Bill says, and pulls away. Hot come splashes over Draco’s arse and they moan as one.

Bill kisses him again, like he did the first time, mere minutes ago — open mouthed, hungry and desperate.

“Is that obvious enough for you? Clear enough?”

Draco nods and smiles.

That’s when someone knocks at the door. “Are you two done? Because people need to use the toilet”

_Merlin._

“Oh, piss off, you wanker. This is your house, go upstairs,” Bill shouts back.

Draco is mortified. Ronald keeps knocking at the door and Draco takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Before he gathers the courage to ask if round two should happen at his or Bill’s, he feels the pull of Apparition, and starts feeling hot at the idea of taking his sweet time with him.

**Author's Note:**

> for a more hyperactive and extremely chatty version of me, come say hi [on tumblr](https://onbeinganangel.tumblr.com)


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